Lazy Sunday

Yesterday was Lazy Sunday. We are good at Lazy Sundays, especially when the weather is cold and indoor pleasures are called for. Winter Sundays and when we go to museums, art galleries. exhibitions, etc. But not yesterday. Yesterday was Lazy.

I got up around 8 o’ clock and as Tigger was still fast asleep, amused myself surfing the Web. In between whiles I got washed and dressed because I knew that sooner or later Tigger would emerge from the cocoon of sleep and want to go for breakfast. Unfortunately, as the computer is near the big window I began to feel cold. The gas fire does a good job but I don’t put it on all the time. Gas costs money.

Tigger woke up and suggested I get into bed to warm up. So I did. Being warm and relax made me sleepy so we both dozed off again. We take our Lazy Sundays seriously, as you see.

At last Tigger roused herself and proposed breakfast. So we dressed and went off to Chapel Market. There are several cafes there including the one we ended up in. They had 3 or 4 vegetarian breakfasts, one of which included veggie sausage and chips. Normally I draw the line at chips for breakfast (though I have had fried potatoes in Wales) but as it was now 12:20 p.m. and therefore technically lunchtime, I didn’t see it mattered. Mmmm chips!

“Back home or go for a wander?” enquired Tigger. “Wander,” I voted. So we set off for the main road and the 214 bus. I didn’t ask where we were going. Tigger, as I mentioned, always knows where she is going and I usually don’t bother asking as I know I’ll like wherever it is. The destination turned out to be Camden Lock. Tigger remembered me saying I hadn’t been there for some time and wanted to visit. Unfortunately, Camden Lock is crowded on Sundays. Moving among the stalls is hard work: there are just too many people for it to be pleasurable. In the end, tired of being continually run into by people with the awareness and intelligence of headless chickens, we withdrew to a cafe across the road. Service was slow but we got a nice soft sofa so we didn’t mind.

Suitably rested and refreshed, we took a bus back to Islington and home. Some more dominical laziness ensued. I awoke with a start and saw the clock indicating 6:20. This confused me as I thought it was Monday morning and wondered why the alarm had not gone off at 6 a.m. Then I remembered it was still Sunday. I heaved myself out of bed and gave Freya her evening meal. This woke up Tigger who suggested we ought to think about supper. My sentiments exactly.

We decided to go to the Montmartre, a French bistro cum brasserie along Essex Road. We had been there several times and enjoyed it… except the last time. The last time, service had been slow and dour and some of the items we asked for were “off”. So we decided to give them a miss for a while, hoping they would get their act together in the meantime. Today was the day to forgive and forget, perhaps. We caught a rather crowded bus and elbowed out way off at the stop. Unfortunately, there was no sign of the Montmartre: the building was now occupied by a Chinese or Thai restaurant.

OK, plan B. We walked back along Essex Road, briefly considered Sabor, a South American restaurant, and then made for the Tapas Bar. We had been there before. The cuisine is unexceptional but the standard is reliable and the food filling.

Back home we got back into bed to conserve heat. The bed is a king-size one but with two large homo sapiens and a lardy feline to accommodate, there is usually some pushing and shoving needed to get everyone settled. We passed what remained of the evening chatting, drinking tea, playing with the cat and listening to CDs until drooping eyelids suggested it was time to turn off the lights and go to sleep. So that’s what we did. End of Lazy Sunday.

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About SilverTiger

I live in Islington with my partner, "Tigger". I blog about our life and our travels, using my own photos for illustration.
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4 Responses to Lazy Sunday

  1. tomeemayeepa says:

    Glad to hear there’s room for Freya in the bed. A lot of people are, or claim to be, allergic to cats’ hairs and won’t allow this sort of intimacy. If I’m on my own I let the cats sleep with me- they normally align themselves with geometrical precision so that I have to contort myself into the sort of position Houdini would have been proud of to squeeze in. That doesn’t prevent me from sleeping soundly, though.

  2. Sounds like my idea of a perfect way to spend a Sunday: sleeping and eating and playing with the cats. On Sunday I took a nap, and as usual had our three boy-cats on the bed with me. Archie conforms himself along my legs, Nero stretches out on the other side, and Harry is somewhere in between them. It’s lovely to have my warm and furry friends napping with me. Unfortunately we can’t have them in the bedroom at night, because Archie, in particular, always chooses something noisy to do around 3 a.m. — generally he decides to play with the window blinds: clack, clackety-clack, clackCLACK! Periodically we given them another chance to be in the room and let us sleep, but it hasn’t worked out. Instead they wait outside the bedroom door and come in to say good morning when we wake up and let them in.

  3. SilverTiger says:

    Freya is used to being pushed and pulled around and sometimes unceremoniously shoved off the bed so I can get my legs straight. She soon gets on again and settles somewhere else.

    She sometimes “does her claws” on the corner of the bed which is torn as a result. We shout at her but she seems quite unabashed. I think it’s her way of demanding attention. This is less than welcome at 3 am.

  4. Pingback: What shall I be? Part 2 « SilverTiger

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